


Amnesia: A Christmas Carol

by SgtLeppard



Category: A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens, Amnesia: The Dark Descent
Genre: Agrippa and Weyer have a kid, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - A Christmas Carol Fusion, Angst, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Bullying, Multi, some Trans-Siberian Orchestra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 12:18:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7844626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SgtLeppard/pseuds/SgtLeppard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Weyer just wants to be alone for once on Christmas. However, after letting this slip to Agrippa, who promptly heads out, he is visited by the Christmas Spirits in an effort to make him see that he really does not want to be alone, especially for the rest of his life...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Fight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EdouBunny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdouBunny/gifts).



> IT BEGINS
> 
> OCs made by my boyfriend Edou and friend Blue will be featured

**~Christmas Eve, 1843~**

It was another cold and bleak Christmas Eve in London. Despite the atmosphere, the people bustling about during the day and night were full of cheer and goodwill, getting together the final touches for their individual Christmases the next day. However, not everyone was anticipating the joyous tomorrow. One store owner, a man named Johann Weyer, grumbled under his breath as he set to work on paperwork. _Stupid Christmas,_ he thought. _Why must it exist?_ Weyer did not like the Christmas season one bit, though it wasn't his only fault. Over the past few years, he had gained a reputation of being one of the worst human beings to ever walk the planet. For a man who was only 26 years of age, one would think that would concern him, but he wasn't bothered in the least. If anything, it was possible the Dutchman wasn't even aware of his reputation at all.

A man walked into the store and greeted the clerk, Daniel, before making his way towards Weyer. "Good evening, Weyer."

Weyer looked up from his paperwork, a disgruntled look on his face. "Ah, Malo. What are you doing here?"

Malo smiled, "Just passing through. Well, not just. I've decided to put together a grand Christmas dinner at my house tomorrow, and I am personally inviting as many close friends as I can!" He wheeled around to face Daniel. "Daniel, even you can come, and you can bring Xaniel and Hazel, too! How is Hazel, by the way?"

Surprised at the sudden invite, Daniel scratched his head. "Still sick, I'm afraid," he replied, "but she has been getting better. I do hope she'll be well enough to come along."

"Excellent!" Malo turned back to Weyer. "I do hope you can come as well. I've already talked with Agrippa and Dimitri. They'd be delighted to come. Also," he purred, "I've been in touch with your brother Arnold. He and your parents are coming too, and they're bringing along Agatha, and the twins, Hans and Schultz. Surely you remember them."

Weyer's eyes widened in surprise. It had been some time since he had seen his old friends or his family. He quickly shook his head. "Malo, you are a good friend, indeed, but I'm afraid I will have to decline."

"Whatever for?" Malo's shocked expression turned into a knowing one. "Ah, I know. Still being a grump about Christmas, I see."

Rolling his eyes, Weyer simply replied, "You know why I hate Christmas, Malo. You need not continue to question me about it. I am not going."

Malo sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "Suit yourself." He headed towards the door, but stopped for a moment to face his friend, a warm smile played on his lips. "I'm sure by tomorrow, you'll have changed your mind. Merry Christmas, Daniel, Weyer."

Daniel returned the festive greeting. Weyer grumbled, "Humbug," and returned to his paperwork.

An hour later, Daniel shrugged on his coat, gathered his things, and came up to his employer. "Weyer?"

"Yes?" he answered without looking up.

The young Englishman shifted on his feet. "As tomorrow is Christmas, and the store will be closed, will I be needed to come in?"

Weyer replied, "No." He thought for a moment before he continued, "Consider this a... Christmas gift. I'll let you have tomorrow and the 26th off, with pay."

Daniel beamed, "Thank you, Weyer."

"Go on, head home. Best wishes to Hazel."

"Ah, right. Mer--" He stopped and corrected himself. "Good night, sir."

"Good night, Daniel." Once Daniel left, Weyer groaned aloud. Letting him off for a couple of days with pay wasn't an issue. The clerk was well-paid for a working class man, and Weyer wasn't exactly a miser, unlike other store owners. He just simply wanted to be left alone, especially during Christmas. If he could go at least one Christmas without being bothered by carollers or invitations and such that would require him to participate, he would consider it the best Christmas ever.

Half an hour later, he finished up the paperwork, slipped his jacket and top hat on, then left the store, locking up behind him.

It was unusually windy when he began the walk home. The cold nipped at any exposed skin with the added wind chill making his face feel a little numb. All around him, the sights and sounds of Christmas were prominent. Salvation Army workers ringing bells on nearly every corner, carollers going from door to door, passersby wishing him a merry Christmas, poinsettia displays in front of doors. The passing smells and scents were equally prominent. If there was one thing Weyer didn't mind about Christmas, it was the associated scents. Freshly baked gingerbread, peppermint sweets, oven-roasted turkey, mince pies, even Christmas cakes!

So Weyer liked food. Who doesn't?

Soon, he finally arrived home, the warm interior greeting him as the fire roared in the fireplace. A man emerged from the kitchen, an apron wrapped about his waist and a dusting of flour covering his face, hands, and hair. "Johann! You're finally home!" He ran up to Weyer and hugged him, transferring some of the flour to the taller man's clothes.

If there was anyone he could stand to be around during Christmas, it was his lover, Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa. The man was at least twice his age, nearing 50, but he still looked very young. Being with Agrippa on Christmas was about as good as being alone. But this year, it wouldn't be just the two of them. Some time ago, they had adopted a young boy, Dimitri, as their son. To Agrippa, he was an absolute angel. To Weyer, however, he was a menace. The two did not get along at all, though attempts to be civil were made.

A burning smell reached Weyer's nose. "Heinrich, what were you doing in there?"

Agrippa smiled, "I know how much you love gingerbread, so I thought I would try and bake you some."

Oh, hell. The two returned to the kitchen to find flour and smoke filling the room, Dimitri hastily pulling the burnt gingerbread cookies out of the oven. Weyer coughed as he tried to waft the smoke from in front of him.

_"Sohn von ein Hündin!"_ the German moaned, exasperated. "I thought I had the recipe right this time!"

Weyer facepalmed, grateful that the smoke covered his face. Agrippa could not cook or bake to save his life. "Clear out, you two. I'll handle this."

Agrippa led their son out of the room and left the apron on the counter. "I'm sorry, _meine liebe._ I tried all afternoon."

"Don't worry, Heinrich," the Dutchman reassured him, giving him a quick kiss. "You tried. That's all that matters."

Agrippa gave him a warm smile before leaving his lover to attend to the burnt confections. Weyer opened the kitchen window, then removed his jacket to waft the smoke outside. Once he could finally see what he was doing, he put on the apron, then began to put together the ingredients for the cookies and baked them.

Soon, they were ready, hot, fresh, and thankfully, not burnt. This was why, Weyer reflected, that he was the one that did the cooking and not Agrippa.

The smell of the fresh gingerbread cookies enticed him. Damn his sweet tooth. Looking around to make sure no one was watching, he slowly made to grab one before anyone noticed. However, a small slap to his hand told him he was caught.

"Ah ah ah," Agrippa gently chastised him, then wrapped the cookies up in a basket. "Those are for tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? What for?"

"Malo's Christmas dinner. I'm sure he told you."

Oh. Weyer sighed. "I take it you want to go."

"Of course," Agrippa beamed. "What is the matter?"

"I'm not going."

The German was shocked. "What? Why?"

Sometimes Weyer wished his lover would just get the hint already, but it seemed like it wasn't going to happen. "Is it too much to ask to spend Christmas alone? Just with you and no one else?"

Agrippa sighed. He should've seen this coming. "What about Dimi?"

"W-well, him too," he stammered.

"Johann," he began, hushed so Dimitri wouldn't hear, "I know how much you would like for just the two of us to spend Christmas together, but we have friends. We have family. We cannot just shy away from our close relations like this."

"And I'm supposed to care?"

"What has gotten into you, Johann? You're acting like a scrooge today. Don't you like Christmas?"

"No, Heinrich. I don't!" Weyer retorted. "I cannot stand it. I've put up with it long enough for your sake! I'm tired of dealing with the _Scheiße_ that comes with this bloody holiday. For once, on Christmas, I just want to be left alone!"

Agrippa stood there, nearly speechless. Immediately, Weyer regretted revealing that to his lover, but it was too late to take it back. "I see, then..." he replied forlornly a moment later. "Well... I'm going to head to the orphanage... I'm taking Dimi with me... Don't expect us home early..." Before Weyer could say anything, Agrippa had shrugged on his coat, had Dimitri ready to leave, then left the house with son in tow.

Weyer knew that after a scuffle, Agrippa would soon get over it, but at the moment, that tidbit of information slipped his mind. For once, he thought Agrippa was going to leave him. If not leave him, then just continue to be angry or disappointed in him. He would've chased after them, but he had long forgotten where the orphanage even was, and he was quite tired from a long day's work.

Eyes welling up, he changed clothes and resigned to bed. At this point, he felt there was nothing he could do. He just hoped, as sleep began to claim him and tears slid down his cheeks, that he could blame his outburst on his tiredness.

\----------

Sleep was uneasy for Weyer. All he could think about was his fight with Agrippa and the possible ending of their relationship. He awoke with a scream, bolting upright in bed. It took him a moment to gather that it was only a dream, but Agrippa was still not home yet. That meant, he assumed, neither was Dimitri.

"Finally awake, I see."

Weyer's head turned towards the window so fast, he could've given himself whiplash. That shock of ginger hair was unforgettable. "Heinrich! What are you doing by the window? And why is it open? You'll catch a cold!"

The figure turned his head in Weyer's direction, a more warm expression on his face than usual. "Whatever makes you think that I am your lover, Weyer?" Before he could answer, the figure jumped down from the windowsill. "My dear man, I am the Ghost of Christmas Past!"

"Christmas Past?"

The spirit nodded. "I only appear to you as your lover as he is someone from your past, even into your present, whom you first truly loved."

Was this an attempt to appeal to his senses? Weyer rubbed his eyes. "I must still be dreaming."

"Afraid not," Past replied, suddenly appearing in front of his face, floating in midair. Weyer gasped in fright, causing the ghost to roar in laughter. "Come along," it spoke as it took his hand, "let's take a trip down memory lane." The spirit pulled him out of bed, then out of the window as they floated to a nearly forgotten place and time.


	2. The First of the Three Spirits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ghost of Christmas Past takes Weyer to the time when his love of Christmas began to dwindle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had originally planned to put more in this part, but I ended up forgetting and decided to make note of it in the third part. No mistakes, just happy accidents :'D That being said, this is also the shortest part

**~Christmas Eve, 1833~**

Weyer looked around, an old memory coming to him. "Are we... in Holland?"

"That is right, my dear boy," the ghost replied. "This exact day, ten years ago."

1833\. This was the year he had first fallen in love with Agrippa, despite the major age difference. Speaking thus, a younger Agrippa walked down the snowy lane and up to the house. Weyer's childhood residence. The front door opened, revealing a 16 year old Weyer. "Herr Agrippa! Nice of you to visit! Merry Christmas!"

Agrippa chuckled, "Merry Christmas, my boy. And you needn't call me that. You can call me Heinrich."

The younger Weyer ushered him inside. The older Weyer soon found himself inside the house, greeted with the view of Agrippa, his younger self, and his family. The woman, his mother, came up to the visitor. "Heinrich Agrippa," her smooth voice flowed, "it is wonderful to see you."

"It is wonderful to see you too, Frau Agnes," he beamed, smiling.

"I almost forgot Heinrich was a friend of my parents," the older Weyer commented, "That was why he visited so often."

"He was also very fond of you," Past added, "as he still is today."

Weyer remembered how awkward it initially felt when he first fell in love with him, given that he was about the same age as his mother and he was friends with both her and his father. It seemed he also forgot that Agrippa's hair had once been that short.

"Johann," his father, Theo, ordered, "head upstairs, get to your studies."

"But Father--"

"No buts, upstairs, now."

Defeated, the younger Weyer slowly trudged upstairs to his room. The older Weyer followed closely behind, seeing his younger self become angry that he's been sent to his room just when the family friend arrived.

"Do you remember?" The ghost appeared before him, standing next to the younger Weyer as he begrudgingly pulled out his schoolwork, mumbling under his breath. "Your father was one reason you've become the way you are now."

Now that he thought about it, Weyer couldn't remember a single instance during Christmastime when his father wasn't so harsh to him. In fact, the only Christmas he could say he truly enjoyed was the first Christmas he spent with Agrippa, just the two of them. Before Daniel, before Dimitri, before Malo. It dawned on him that he missed being alone with his lover. He would be completely content to spend the rest of his life all by himself with only Agrippa as company.

"But... why was only I sent to my room?" In the blink of an eye, he was back downstairs, where his parents, brother, and future lover remained.

"Theo," Agnes pleaded, "you shouldn't be so harsh on him. It's Christmas Eve."

"It doesn't mean he doesn't have homework," he replied, then turned to Agrippa. "Terribly sorry about that, Herr Heinrich. A drink?"

"Oh no no," Agrippa politely declined. "I have a long day ahead of me. I will need my thoughts to be clear."

"Should I go?" his brother, Arnold, asked.

"You are of age now, Arnold," Theo answered. "You may stay as long as you like." Arnold smiled and remained seated.

"Agrippa felt quite bad for how you were treated," Past spoke as the conversation continued without interruption. "It took quite a lot of convincing on his part for your father to allow the two of you to spend time together."

Weyer certainly remembered that. Agrippa had told him of that before when they had gone on their first date.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he was outside at the park. "I remember this place," he reminisced. "I used to come here with friends after my schoolwork and chores were done. That is, as long as it wasn't late." He could see his younger self with his old friends, Hans, Schultz, and Agatha, exchanging Christmas gifts. "Hans always did his best to cheer me up after dealing with my father. Schultz would empathise; he didn't really have a good childhood either. And Agatha..."

"Had a crush on you," the spirit finished his sentence.

"Yes," Weyer replied, "but I didn't feel the same towards her... Heinrich had already taken my heart..."

"And he continues to hold it. Always has, always will."

The ghost was right. Agrippa was his first and only love. Focusing back on his friends, he found that only he and Agatha were there now, Hans and Schultz having already gone home. He could see and hear Agatha confessing her feelings for him, only to be rebuffed by the younger Weyer, who then turned to head home, as he could hear his mother calling for him since it was dinner time. Now he could clearly see how heartbroken the girl was. He felt so terrible for turning her down, but he was only being honest.

"Don't worry," Past spoke up, "she found true happiness later on with Hans."

Weyer whipped around to face the ghost that took on his lover's face. "Agatha and Hans? They married?" It nodded. _"Mein Gott..."_

"These events started you on the road to what you became. You came to hate Christmas. You came to hate your father. You came to hate being with others in general. I could show you more on this if you wish."

"No!" Weyer cried. "I've seen enough!"

"Even though I've only shown you but a small portion of how you became who you are?"

"I don't care! I know what you mean to show me, I _know!_ I do not wish to see any more."

"As you wish," Past mused and snapped its fingers. Weyer soon saw that he was back in his room and the Ghost of Christmas Past had disappeared.


	3. The Second of the Three Spirits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ghost of Christmas Present takes Weyer on a little trip around town [and further].

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest part [over 4,000 words -whEEZES-] as there was a lot of ground to cover

**~Christmas Eve, 1843~**

Before Weyer could get his bearings and go back to bed, another familiar and cheery voice sounded out from a corner. "Yoo hoo! Oh, Weyer!"

The Dutchman turned to where the voice came from, seeing what looked like his friend in the corner. "Malo? Or..." he stopped, remembering his adventure with Past. "Are you a ghost as well?"

"Ah, a bright one you are!" The spirit strode forward and bowed in a typical French aristocratic nature. "I am the Ghost of Christmas Present. I rest assured you know why I appear to you as one Malo de Vigny." Weyer merely nodded, getting the hint. "Well then, let's not waste time, shall we? There's so much festivity going on and you're missing out! Come!" It quickly took Weyer by the hand and led him outside.

Their first stop was to a young couple's apartment. Weyer recognised them as Justine and Aloïs, friends of Malo's. They had recently become engaged and with the money they had, they bought their own flat in Calais. The couple hoped that by the time they would be married, they would be able to get an actual house and try to start a family. But right now, the lovers embraced on the couch in front of the fire, sharing a bottle of wine.

"I haven't seen Malo in ages," Justine mused. "It'll be good to see him at his dinner."

"It surely will," Aloïs replied.

The young lady turned to her fiancé. "Who all is going besides us?"

Aloïs thought for a moment as he recollected who all was going to attend the Christmas dinner. "Let's see... Do you remember Basile? He's volunteering at an orphanage in London, he'll be going. I spoke with him earlier today, he's also invited Monsieur Agrippa and his family."

"Isn't Monsieur Agrippa seeing... Monsieur Weyer?"

Aloïs sighed, "Yes, the poor soul."

"Poor Weyer, indeed," Justine agreed. "It's saddening to see how _grognon_ he is, especially around this time of the year."

"Mmhm," the young man hummed. "He is quite the scrooge. I have the sneaking suspicion he will fall into ill favour later in life. But who knows. He's still young like us. Maybe something in him will change."

Justine smiled, "Nothing says 'Christmas miracle' like Weyer being joyous and friendly on Christmas day."

This brought a chuckle from Aloïs. Quickly, he sobered up and pulled something out of his pocket. "I have something for you."

"Aloïs, it's still Christmas Eve!"

"This one's early." He insisted, "Go on, open it."

Smiling in anticipation, she opened the small box to reveal a stunning necklace. "Oh, Aloïs, _mon amour!_ It's _magnifique!_ "

"I thought you would like it." He helped her put the necklace on. "It is almost as beautiful as you."

"Almost?"

"You will always be the most beautiful thing on Earth to me."

Justine beamed and kissed him. _"Je t'aime, Aloïs."_

_"Je t'aime aussi, mon Justine."_

Weyer was perplexed. Why would someone like Mademoiselle Justine be the slightest bit concerned about him? With Aloïs, it was more understandable. They were friends, in a sense, by association, both being friends with Malo.

"They have every right to be concerned, you big grump," the spirit's voice startled him. "Just because you do not know each other very well doesn't mean they don't care for you to some degree."

Before Weyer could reply, the ghost had taken his hand again and walked outside, this time returning to London, where they could see a disgruntled man doing last minute Christmas shopping before the last of the stores closed. Despite his older appearance, the Dutchman recognised him immediately.

"Verstalt!? What on Earth is he doing in London!?"

"Ah," the spirit mused, "your childhood bully."

Weyer could not tear his eyes away from his former tormentor. "Why didn't the other ghost show him and the treachery he had done upon me?"

"You wished not to see it." Present then pulled a little at its collar. "To be honest, neither would I."

He could only growl a curse under his breath. He knew that if the two crossed paths, there was no way the meeting would be civil, which would lead to one or both of them taking a trip to a doctor and Agrippa worrying over him like the mother hen he was. The brief thought of Agrippa made his heart feel heavy, remembering their fight before he went to bed.

"Ah, well, let's not continue to bother with him," the ghost piped. "There are more merry souls to see!" It once more took Weyer by the hand and lead him to a small house. The man had only been there a few times, but it didn't take a genius to realise this was Daniel's house.

Inside, he could see him and his roommate, Xaniel, putting together dinner. Daniel's sister, Hazel, was already seated at the small table. The poor girl was sickly ever since she was a child, but she somehow managed to live this long. Everyone believed it was her strong spirit and will that got her this far. Even now, though she appeared as if death was knocking on her door, she was in a very bright mood.

The two young men brought the food from the kitchen and set it on the table. They then took their own spots at the table and joined hands with Hazel.

"Who would like to say the prayer this time?" Daniel asked.

Hazel gazed at him with big, hopeful eyes. "May I, Danny?" her soft voice sounded out.

Her brother smiled, "Sure, Hazel." Xaniel nodded in agreement, smiling as well.

She wiggled a little in her seat, then began the prayer. "Our Heavenly Father, we give thanks for the birth of Your Son, and the celebration of His life. We give thanks for our family and friends, and that we can be together in this blessed time. We ask that You keep them in mind, especially Mr Weyer."

Weyer's eyes widened when the young girl said his name. She continued, "To others, he is seen as nothing more than a grumpy scrooge, but I know he is a kind soul, and I hope You see it, too. Help him to remember that He is the reason for this season. Help him to see that he is loved and cared for during this blessed season. Help him to see that he is never alone."

He would've been lying if he had said he wasn't surprised. This sickly young girl spoke so kindly of him, he could've sworn his heart was melting. Soon, she finished up the prayer, a broad smile present on her face. "We give You thanks on this Christmas Eve, and God bless us, every one. Amen."

Daniel smiled as broadly as his sister. For such a tiny girl, plagued with sickness all her life, she had a big heart. Weyer could see this as well and was fighting to keep tears from rolling down his cheeks.

The two men said their amens and fixed their plates, Daniel fixing Hazel's plate first. "I'm sure if Weyer were here to hear your prayer, he would love it." Little did he know that the man in question was standing not five feet away from their table, listening to every word being spoken.

Xaniel spoke up, subconsciously moving a lock of his snowy hair behind his ear, "I agree he would. I certainly did. It was a very touching prayer." Daniel nodded in agreement, causing Hazel's already broad smile to widen more.

The spirit was now standing beside the trio as they ate their meal, conversing about this, that, and the other. "How astonishing it is for someone in such a state as hers to be in high spirits. Seeing as she hasn't much time left."

Weyer looked up from Hazel to Present. "What do you mean?"

"Her illness will ultimately claim her life."

Shocked, he stammered, "A-are you s-saying... she'll die?"

It nodded. "And soon."

He could barely believe what he was hearing. "But she has such a strong will to live! Don't you see that!? She can't die!"

The ghost had a solemn expression on its face. "Strong will and spirit will only get her so far, and it won't be able to carry her on much longer. She is in need of proper care."

Weyer understood why Daniel hadn't sought medical treatment for Hazel. While the Englishman was paid rather well, the salary would not be enough to cover all of the expenses. Xaniel, in a bid to help with funding a future stay in hospital, had gotten a job as well. It didn't pay as well as well as his roommate's job, but it significantly helped in saving up enough to at least start on treatment, but wouldn't be able to last for many sessions. The cost for the full care she was in desperate need of was way more than the both of them combined could afford.

"There has to be something that can be done..."

"There is," Present answered, "but you must figure out the answer yourself."

Weyer dishearteningly gazed at the clerk's little sister, who seemed blissfully unaware that her life would soon be over. He could not have felt more terrible. He turned his gaze away for a moment, only to find that he was no longer in Daniel's house, but Malo's instead. The man in question, along with another man with obsidian black hair, was putting up extra decorations in preparation for the dinner tomorrow.

"So when are Theo and Agnes going to arrive?" he asked his helper.

"They should be here sometime in the morning," the man answered. That voice, that tone. There was no mistaking it. It was Hans. That meant that if he was there, so was Schultz and Agatha. Sure enough, the two emerged from another room, carrying more decorations. A third man entered behind them, also carrying a box of decorations.

"Arnold!?"

"What, did you forget he was invited?" the ghost feigned a hurt tone.

The group kept themselves busy setting up the decorations, but just because their hands were busy didn't mean their mouths weren't.

"How many people are even coming besides us?" Schultz asked.

"Oh," Malo replied as he strung garland along the top of the window, "aside from you all and Arnold's parents, his brother and his family should be coming too."

"Johann's coming?" Arnold sounded surprised. "He hates social events."

"Ah, that he does," the Frenchman replied, "and he even said he declined, but just you wait. Come tomorrow, he'll be here. I know he will."

"And how would that work?" Agatha piped.

Malo turned around a little to try and face her, but lost his balance on the ladder and fell backwards, the string of garland coming off of the window as he yelped upon landing.

"Malo, are you alright!?" Weyer cried out on instinct, concerned for the wellbeing of his close friend, but soon remembered that he couldn't hear him. The question, however, was repeated by the others in attendance.

Malo quickly got back up and dusted himself off. "I'm alright, don't worry." Bending down to gather up the garland, he answered the young woman's question. "He'll have either changed his mind or Agrippa would end up dragging him along."

"Agrippa!" Arnold cried. "I almost forgot they had been seeing each other for some years now."

"It's quite easy to forget a lot of things about him when we haven't seen him in years," Hans said. "It's been so long, I don't think he knows you and I are married, Aggie."

Agatha sighed, " _верно._ I wish he could've been at the wedding."

"Despite your little crush on him?"

"That was a long time ago, don't you remember?"

"I know, I know. I'm only saying."

Arnold waited a moment before jumping in. "I don't understand why he's become so withdrawn. Ever since he was a teenager..."

Schultz felt empathy for his Dutch friend. He was the pessimistic one of the twins and he could relate to how he felt, though with some help from his brother and sister-in-law, he was starting to see more on the brighter side of things, though looking at the negative was still a habit for him. Maybe someday that would end, but that seemed to be a long ways off. He could only hope that Weyer would see the light a lot sooner than he would at the moment.

"Well," Malo spoke, "in brighter news, he and Agrippa adopted a child."

"Really?" Arnold's voice sounded.

"That's wonderful!" Agatha exclaimed.

Malo hummed. "His name is Dimitri. He is such an angel. Although, he and Weyer don't get along very well."

"Why is that?"

He shrugged. "I'm not sure. They're just not on the same page with each other for some reason."

"Much the same with your parents," the spirit interjected, having gone to sit precariously on the window sill.

"Much the same with Mother and Father," Arnold added. "More so Father than Mother. He was quite imposing on us when we were younger. When I came of age, he stopped behaving that way towards me, but it wasn't the same story for Johann. Father all but tortured him."

Schultz rubbed the back of his neck. "If so, would having Theo and Weyer in the same room be a good idea?"

"Father has changed a lot since we were young," the elder Weyer brother explained. "He's had the time to think about how he treated him and believe me when I say he feels _verschissen_ about it."

Malo raised an eyebrow. "I know absolutely nothing of the German language, but I'm sure that word is not a good one."

"You'd be correct."

"Ah."

Hans spoke up, "Well, if Weyer does come, maybe they could make up, hopefully be on good terms with each other for the first time in ages."

"I agree," Arnold replied. "I do hope he comes."

"Well, come on then," Malo and the ghost spoke in unison, nearly startling Weyer, "let's finish getting these decorations up for the dinner, eh?"

Everyone nodded in agreement and were soon back to decorating, though there was still a lot of chitchat. Weyer was dumbfounded. "Father has changed?"

"I'm the wrong person to ask, you know," it answered. "I know all of the answers, but do not think for a second that I will tell you them."

The spirit had a point. It was there to show him how to find the answers, not the answers themselves. "Come," it said, "we have one more stop, and if I were you, I'd take note of where we're going."

"Where exactly are we going?" he asked.

"You'll see." It led Weyer a few blocks down the street, the short journey giving him time to view sights he had seen earlier, but taking in much more detail this time. People leaving donations for the Salvation Army, greeting each other merrily as they went on their way. He had seen Verstalt once more, who was carrying a large package. What on Earth was he going to do with it? The Dutchman did notice that he seemed less disgruntled than before. Maybe the package or something else he was carrying was quite hard to get a hold of and he was relieved that he managed to find it. Who knows.

His attention went back to the scenery about him. He could clearly see beautiful Christmas trees standing in shop and home windows, the tinsel glittering when light caught them. He had been quite caught up with his surroundings that by the time he looked in front of him again, it took him a moment to realise they were following Verstalt. They followed him all the way up to an old building.

The spirit turned to face him, walking backwards as a result. "Do you see where we are now?"

Weyer looked up to see the sign in front of the building, which read 'Mayfair Children's Home'. "We're at the orphanage...?"

"Correct," Present smiled and led him inside. The first person they came across was Basile. He volunteered as much as he could, helping out with the children with any projects they were working on. Mostly, those projects were school related. At the moment, he had been helping a young boy, Thomas, put together a homemade holly and poinsettia wreath out of paper, which was almost finished. The boy glued the last paper holly onto the wreath. As he was gluing, Basile folded up the last piece of paper in the form of a poinsettia. Once done, he handed the paper flower to him, who then glued it in its place.

His face lit up, his work complete. "It's finally done!"

Basile chuckled, "Indeed it is, Thomas. Let's set it over here to dry." He set the paper wreath on the desk, placed in a way so the flowers wouldn't move and would stay in place once the glue dried and hardened.

Thomas began to yawn, his tiredness clear as day. "I'm tired, Basile," he said while climbing into bed. "Thank you for helping me with the wreath."

The man tucked him in, smiling. "You're welcome, Thomas."

"I can't wait to see what Santa will bring me," the boy beamed, a wide grin on his face.

"Seeing as you've been good all year round, I'm sure Father Christmas has lots of goodies waiting for you," he said.

Thomas wiggled, clearly excited for the coming Christmas morning.

"So get to sleep quick, for he may be here very soon!"

Giggling, the boy made himself comfortable under the blanket. "Good night, Basile, and Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas, Thomas," he replied, still smiling warmly. "Good night." He quietly turned off the lamp in the room, then left, closing the door behind him. Sometimes working with kids could be a hassle, but thankfully today was one of the better days. He stretched out a bit, a series of pops emanating from his large frame, then headed down the corridor, Weyer and the ghost in tow.

"How in the world does he manage to put up with so many children?" Weyer wondered aloud.

"Maybe you should ask your lover," was the ghost's simple reply.

Once again, Weyer's heart felt heavy. He was already regretting his words earlier, but now he regretted them even more. The pair followed Basile into the music room, where a choir of boys and girls were singing in German. Weyer recognised the song as O Come All Ye Faithful. He could see Dimitri standing in the alto section with some other boys and girls who sang in that range. Above all, he could see that familiar shock of ginger hair standing in front of the choir, directing them and keeping time. Weyer noted that his mood seemed to have lightened, and pleased at how the choir was doing. He had to admit, they did sound lovely.

A couple of minutes later and the choir finished practising the song. _"Wunderbar, Kinder! Absolut wunderbar!_ I believe you're ready for the performance tomorrow night."

The choir cheered at their accomplishment, elated that all of their hard work and practise was paying off.

"Alright, remember the order of songs we're doing. Silent Night, Angels We Have Heard on High, What Child is This, Good King Wenceslas, The First Noël, and finally O Come All Ye Faithful. Everyone remember?"

"Yes, Agrippa!" the sea of smiling faces sounded out happily.

Agrippa looked over at the clock. " _Mein Gott,_ I barely knew the time! Everyone head to bed, and have a very merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas, Agrippa!" the choir sounded out once more, then broke off as the children headed to their rooms. The only child that stayed in the room was Dimitri.

Once the rest of the children had gone to bed, Basile stepped forward. " _Bonjour,_ Agrippa."

"Ah, Basile, _hallo!_ " the German greeted his coworker of sorts.

"I have to say the choir sounded magnificent."

"Thank you," he smiled.

" _привет,_ Basile," Dimitri chimed, running up and hugging the large man.

Basile laughed and hugged the boy back. "Hello there, Dimitri. Can't wait for Christmas?" He replied with an eager shake of his head, a smile forming. "Ah, I didn't think so." He turned his attention back to Agrippa. "How's Weyer?"

Agrippa rubbed the back of his neck. "He's been in a bit of a sour mood lately."

Basile sighed. It was so like Weyer to be a sourpuss on Christmas. "Do you think he'll be going to Malo's Christmas dinner?"

"He said he wouldn't."

The larger man groaned. "That's a shame. I was hoping he'd be there, seeing as his old friends will."

"I know." It was Agrippa's turn to sigh. "Maybe he'll have a change of heart."

"Let's hope." Basile glanced at the clock. "I should be heading home. Got to be up early."

"Alright. _Gute Nacht,_ Basile!"

"Goodnight, you two!"

"Night, Basile!"

Once he had left, they shrugged their coats on and were about to make for the door when Verstalt had walked in, still carrying the large package from earlier. _"Guten abend, Herr Agrippa."_

Agrippa looked up from helping Dimitri with his coat. _"Verstalt? Mein Gott, mann, du hast dich verändert."_

He chuckled for a moment. "Agrippa, I was wondering if you could do me a favour."

"Sure, what is it?"

Verstalt handed him the large package. "Careful, it's heavy." The older German held it close to his body with both arms so he'd be able to hold it without dropping it. "It's a present for Weyer."

Did he just hear him right? "Verstalt got a present... for me?"

"My stars, man, don't you have ears?" the spirit's voice caused him to jump back in fright. "What's the matter, Weyer?" it asked, a sly smile forming on its lips. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

The Dutchman glared at it. _"Brutaal."_

"Ah, so you can still speak Dutch."

"S-shut up."

Agrippa was perplexed. "You two weren't on very good terms. Pardon my confusion, but... I don't quite understand."

"That's the point," Verstalt revealed. "I have not been the best person to him and I realise that as I am older and more rational, it was time to make peace and be civil. I just hope he'll accept what I've got him."

"What is it?" Agrippa questioned, curious of what was inside. Verstalt leaned in and whispered to him what the present was so Dimitri wouldn't hear and possibly spoil the surprise. The older German's eyes widened. "He's been wanting that for years, how did you get a hold of one?"

"It was in a discard pile," Verstalt shrugged. "Guess the original owner didn't want it anymore."

Agrippa understood what it meant. Sometimes people would set up discard piles in front of their house, full of things they no longer want. The items are free for the general public to take what they like. It's a common occurrence during the Christmas season, but some people have been known to have a discard pile at different times of the year. The practise started in the East End of London, but with Verstalt finding it in here in Mayfair in central London, it seemed the practise was spreading.

"Well, a friend of ours, Malo, is holding a Christmas dinner tomorrow afternoon," he started, "and quite a few people will be there. Do you think you'd be able to come?"

Verstalt sadly shook his head. "I have to make an overnight ride back to Germany in order to see my family come morning time."

"Understandable," Agrippa nodded. "I'll make sure this gets put under the tree."

" _Danke._ I best be going now. _Frohe Weihnachten, Herr Agrippa._ "

_"Frohe Weihnachten zu Ihnen auch, Verstalt."_

Weyer could barely wrap his head around what he just saw and heard. Before he knew it, they were all outside, Agrippa and Dimitri making the trek home.

"Papa?" Dimitri spoke up.

"Yes, Dimi?"

"Are you still mad at Father?"

Agrippa shook his head as they turned a corner. "I can never be mad at your father for very long. His attitude can be infuriating at times, I'll admit, but that doesn't mean I don't love him."

"What were you talking about before we left?"

Such a curious little child they have. He chuckled nervously, "Never you mind about that right now. Just a small misunderstanding, that's all." He patted his son's back gently as they continued walking.

Dimitri continued to ask questions and Agrippa did his best to answer them, but their words were sounding fuzzy to Weyer. He stopped for a moment to think about what he'd just heard his lover say. "Is he... going to leave me...?"

"That depends on your actions, Weyer," the ghost replied. A moment later, it stopped, musing, "Ah, here begins the next part of your journey."

Confused, Weyer turned to see a large, dark portal in the middle of the street. What on Earth was it doing there? "Where the hell did that come from?" The spirit did not answer, but instead led him towards it. "Am I supposed to go through?" It nodded, humming. "But... Heinrich will be home soon. I should--"

"Do not concern yourself with him right this moment," it said, then gestured towards the portal. "Your journey is not over yet. There is still much you must learn."

Curiosity getting the better of him, Weyer slowly stepped through the portal. "What must I learn?" He turned around to address it, but the portal had closed and the Ghost of Christmas Present was nowhere to be seen.


	4. The Last of the Spirits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final ghost takes Weyer into the distant future, and what he sees breaks him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here comes the feels, doo doo doo doo

**~Christmas Eve, 1883~**

Looking around, Weyer noticed how dark his surroundings were. It was night outside, that much he was sure of. Was he even still in London? Where was he? A figure emerged from the thick fog, and Weyer could not believe his eyes. The figure was his old boss, Alexander. He had passed away about four years ago due to some small incident in Prussia. The details were still a little unclear to the Dutchman, but he knew that he was on holiday in a castle-turned-hotel and after having a scuffle with another resident, he suffered a heart attack in his room at the age of 62 on the 19th of August. His body was found the very next morning.

Weyer gulped at the menacing figure, realising who he, or rather it really was. "The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come, I presume." The spirit nodded silently, a smirk tugging at the corner of its mouth. "Where are we? When are we?" he asked the ghost, who simply handed him a newspaper with the date up top. It read 24 December, 1883. Forty years into the future!? His hand raised to his forehead, raising his blond double fringe up a little. _"Mein Gott..."_

Future cleared its throat, grabbing his attention quickly. It motioned for him to follow it as it slowly walked down the dark and dingy street. He quickly caught up, doing his best to keep his pace as slow as the ghost's. They came across what looked like a meat processing factory. Weyer immediately recognised the front office of the factory.

"That is my store!" he exclaimed, turning to the ghost. "Why...?" It let out a small hum and led him inside. A man, who was of middle age, was working on paperwork, not unlike Weyer had earlier that day. He seemed to be working alone that night, as the only other people in the room were two young boys, twins, who were playing around.

The telephone on his desk suddenly went off and the man answered. "Mandus Processing Company."

_"Good evening, Mr Mandus."_

"Ah, professor. You finally call."

_"I was bound to at some point,"_ the professor answered. _"I'm still quite amazed that you had started up a processing factory without so much as an office to work in."_

"Well, that has changed," Mandus spoke, "There was a store in front of the factory, and I acquired it, turned it into the main office."

_"Acquired?"_ the professor questioned. _"How so?"_

Mandus replied, "The owner had passed on some time ago and his son sold it to me. Said he had no purpose or use for it anymore, and there wasn't anyone to keep up with it. Besides, my great uncle had worked with him before, so in a way, it would be keeping it in the family."

_"Quite the reuse of space,"_ the professor mused, _"and to think that you only started on building the factory a year ago and it is open and fully operational now. My God, man,"_ he chuckled, _"you have been busy."_

The Englishman sighed, but quickly covered the microphone when the children ran past, laughing. "Boys, please!" Once they quieted down, he uncovered the microphone. "Yes, well, it has been ten years since my wife's passing. I have mourned long enough."

_"Ah, I remember,"_ the professor recollected, _"your wife died in childbirth."_

"That is correct, my good man." Mandus looked over at his children, who continued to play. One of them looked up and waved at him, smiling. He returned the smile and waved back.

The professor asked, _"How are the boys handling it?"_

"So far, I believe very well. Madame Racine keeps a good eye on them. They get along beautifully with her, call her Justine. Since it's Christmas Eve, I've given her some time off, so the boys are with me at the moment. She and her husband are celebrating their anniversary soon."

_"Ah, they are? How long have they been married?"_

"37 years now."

_"37? My God."_ A short moment later, the professor spoke, _"I wish I could continue to chat with you, but I have duties to attend to."_

"Haven't we all?" Mandus chuckled. "I shall talk to you after Boxing Day."

_"Merry Christmas, Mr Mandus."_

"Merry Christmas, professor." Mandus then hung the phone up and went back to his paperwork.

Mandus' words earlier were beginning to plague Weyer. "I never sold my store or abandoned it. What's going on!?" He glared at the spirit, demanding answers. It simply gave him a knowing look. "What, Alexander's son bought it off me!?" Future shook its head. "Am I this man's great uncle?" The spirit laughed, once again shaking its head. "Then what?" It motioned for him to follow and led him down the street.

A thought came to Weyer. While his former boss was quite a friendly fellow and practically loved to hear himself talk, aside from a few simple sounds, the ghost who took his appearance was eerily silent. This made it seem quite menacing and it honestly scared him.

The pair arrived at the cemetery, walking amongst the graves until they came across two men standing by one such grave. Weyer's eyes widened when he saw the men were his son Dimitri and Xaniel. In his old age, Xaniel looked like the spitting image of Alexander. Dimitri seemed to have aged gracefully. And judging from the way they interacted with each other, it was clear to the Dutchman that they had become a couple.

"I still can't believe it's been six months," Xaniel mused solemnly.

Dimitri sighed, placing a couple of flowers by the graveside. "I wish things could've worked out. Ever since he and Papa split, he just became more and more bitter. I couldn't bear to visit him anymore. Even Papa had wished things were different before he died."

Agrippa was dead? Given that at this particular time, he would've been almost 90, so it seemed reasonable, but Weyer didn't want to believe it.

The snowy haired man spoke up, "If anything, since this day forty years ago, everything has been going downhill. He and Agrippa broke up. Hazel succumbed to her illness. Daniel fell into ill health not long after and passed a few years later. Weyer kept isolating himself from everyone. Then Agrippa died. Now this."

Dimitri's eyes became glassy with tears. "I don't care that he was mean. I don't care that we didn't get along. I don't care that he pushed everyone away..." Tears streamed down his cheeks and he began to sob. "I miss my father!" Xaniel quickly pulled him close, holding him and trying to shush him.

Not long after, the pair said their goodbyes to deceased man's grave and left the cemetery. Weyer could feel his world crash around him as their words processed in his mind. "No," his voice softly quivered. "No no no, this can't be!" He ran over to the grave, turning around to read the tombstone.

HERE LIES  
JOHANN WEYER  
-BORN-  
31 OCTOBER 1817  
-DIED-  
15 JUNE 1883  
HE WISHED TO BE LEFT ALONE  
THEN HE LIVED ALONE  
TO THE END OF HIS DAYS

"No!" he cried, sobs beginning to rack his body. The spirit only looked on emotionlessly. "I'm sorry, Heinrich...! I'm sorry, Dimi...! I'm sorry, Hazel...! I'm so sorry...! Good Spirit, I will change! I swear on it! Just please give me a chance! I don't want to be alone...!" 


	5. The End of It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weyer wakes up on Christmas morning a changed man, and the children's choir does a little something special for everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it ends

**~Christmas Day, 1843~**

Weyer awoke with tears in his eyes and the morning sun streaming through the closed window. He sat up, softly sobbing as he stared out of the window. Had it all been a dream? Was it real in a way? One thing was for sure, he certainly did not want to be alone for the rest of his life, nor did he want people around him to suffer because of his attitude.

"Johann...?"

He gasped and turned to see Agrippa in bed with him, rubbing his eyes, having been woken up by his crying. The German blinked a few times as he tried to clear away the sleep from his eyes. Once he had, he took in the sight of Weyer's tears with concern. "Johann, what's the matter? Why are you crying?"

Instead of answering, he quickly wrapped his arms around his lover, crying into his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Heinrich...! I didn't mean...!"

Agrippa was shocked at the display of waterworks. It took him a moment to realise what he was trying to say. He returned the hug and softly shushed him. "It's okay, _liebe._ I know you didn't."

Weyer pulled away for a moment, sniffling. "Please don't leave me..."

 _"Meine alle..."_ Agrippa cupped his lover's cheeks in his hands, eyes locking with his. "I will never leave you. Whatever made you think I would?" Weyer couldn't bring himself to words. Agrippa chuckled a little. "Johann, you act as if you've been visited by the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future."

"W-what!?" he stammered. "What do you-what?"

Agrippa laughed, "I think you have, Johann." Giving him a light kiss on the tip of his nose, he spoke, "Come on, _liebe._ Let's go open presents."

In reply, before getting up, Weyer quickly pulled him close, kissing him passionately. Once they pulled apart for air, the Dutchman finally answered, smiling, "Merry Christmas, Heinrich."

"Merry Christmas, Johann," Agrippa smiled back.

After an hour, the presents were opened and everyone enjoyed what they got. Weyer couldn't wait to open the present he got from Verstalt, but Agrippa said it would wait until Malo's dinner. "That is, if you want to go."

Almost on instinct, he nearly said no, but then he remembered everything the spirits told him. "You know what? I want to go."

"You do?" Agrippa sounded somewhat surprised. Weyer nodded. "Can you wait that long to open it?"

"I can."

Chuckling, Agrippa spoke, "Alright, if you're sure."

Dimitri played around with the gifts the boy had gotten from his parents, Agrippa watching, while Weyer made himself busy in the kitchen making breakfast. Sausage, bacon, scrambled eggs. Coffee was fixed for the parents while fruit juice was prepared for their son. "Breakfast is ready!" he called from the kitchen and began to set the food on the table. Dimitri dashed to the table, eager to eat. Weyer moved the still covered gingerbread cookies from the table to the kitchen counter.

He thought for a moment. Would anyone really miss just one cookie? Just like last night, he slowly made to grab one from the basket. He managed to retrieve one, but before he could open his mouth to munch down on it, a throat cleared behind him. Caught, Weyer turned around to see Agrippa with a sly smirk on his face. "Really, Johann?"

Weyer decided to give him the puppy eyes. It wasn't as effective as Agrippa's, nor did he do it as often, but it sometimes worked. "Please...?"

Agrippa's smirk widened into a grin as he reached to take the basket from his lover's hand, leaving him with just the cookie he was holding. "Just one." Almost immediately, the Dutchman chomped down on the cookie, nearly melting from the wonderful taste, causing the older man to laugh. "You are too _schattig,_ you know that?"

Weyer flushed a little as he continued to eat the cookie. It wasn't often that Agrippa spoke Dutch, but he loved the way his Dutch sounded.

\----------

The family of three arrived at Malo's house. Agrippa carried Weyer's present from Verstalt, Weyer held onto the gingerbread cookies, and Dimitri continued to play with a gift his father had gotten him. He really was quite enthralled with it. It was early afternoon, air still quite nippy from the cold and snowy conditions, but it wasn't nearly as windy as the previous night.

" _Bonjour,_ my friends!" Malo greeted them. "I just knew you would come, Weyer."

Weyer clicked his tongue and chuckled. Upon walking into the main room, he could see who all was there at that moment. Hans, Schultz, and Agatha were sitting on the couch. Basile was emerging from the bathroom. Aloïs and Justine had arrived just behind them, the Frenchman ruffling Dimitri's hair. Daniel was also in the room, as well as Hazel sitting in an armchair since she was well enough to attend. Xaniel was in the kitchen, helping prepare food. But the sight of Arnold brought a smile to his face.

"I haven't seen you in a few years, Mr Grinch," Arnold commented.

Weyer laughed, "That's rich coming from you, Mr Overcompensator."

Arnold went wide-eyed, but soon broke into laughter as well. "It's good to see you again, Johann."

"Same for you, Arnold." The two brothers hugged for what seemed like hours, which was really only a minute or two. Afterwards, Weyer and his old friends began catching up on all they missed in the last few years since they last saw each other. The Dutchman did express his apologies for not attending Hans and Agatha's wedding. He really did wish he could've been there if he had known. They simply told him that it was alright.

The real reunion began half an hour later when Theo and Agnes finally arrived. Malo, being the host, ushered them in. Time seemed to stand still. It had been many years since he last saw his parents, and now here they are. "Mother... Father..."

 _"Vrolijk Kerstmis, mijn zoon,"_ Agnes greeted him with a smile.

Weyer immediately ran up to his parents, the trio sharing a long awaited hug. _"Vrolijk Kerstmis,"_ he responded tearfully. It never occurred to him until now how much he really missed his parents.

The reunion continued on and soon it was time to eat. Weyer elected to say the prayer, despite his rather nonreligious stance. He glanced up for a moment to see Hazel, who despite her sickness, looked as though she had many years ahead of her. He then finished the prayer with the girl's own words with a smile on his face. "God bless us, every one."

After eating and much conversing, the group opened presents, resulting in Hazel and Dimitri getting wonderful toys, the couples loving memorabilia, and everyone something from their wishlist.

Imagine how Weyer reacted to opening his present from Verstalt. How thoughtful of him.

\----------

Weyer sat in the front row of the audience, waiting anxiously for the performance to begin. He was soon joined by his friends and family, his father sitting next to him. During the dinner, Theo had wanted to speak with his youngest son privately, but this would have to do.

"Johann," he began, "I never did apologise for how I treated you when you were a child. I only wanted the best for you and I didn't think it would turn you bitter."

Weyer smiled. "It's alright now, Father. It seems we've both changed a lot."

Theo chuckled, "We sure have, my son." The two embraced, glad that their past issues can be buried and no longer left to fester and boil until they exploded. Things were definitely changing for the better, Weyer knew it.

The children began to take their places on the risers. Dimitri waved to Weyer as he walked to his place in the alto section. The Dutchman smiled and waved back. Once all of the children were in place, Agrippa emerged, dressed in concert attire. Weyer found that in such an outfit as that, his lover looked quite... well, let's not go there. The German made the introductions, then the performance officially began. Weyer was proud of his lover and son. Their hard work with the choir really was paying off right then. He had once scoffed at the idea of Agrippa being the choir director for the orphanage, but now he couldn't be more happy for him. With each song they did, he could see the pride continuously growing in his amber eyes.

Finally, the children sang the last notes of O Come All Ye Faithful and the audience applauded. Everyone loved the performance and many wished it didn't have to end right then. Agrippa and the children took their bows, the German making his way to his lover.

" _Meine liebe,_ that was wonderful!" Weyer exclaimed, a broad smile on his face.

"Aren't you glad you came to see it now?" Agrippa smiled just as broadly.

"Of course."

The two looked over at the children, who still hadn't moved from the risers. A girl a year or two younger than Dimitri stepped forward from the mezzo soprano section. She cleared her throat, then spoke. "Us children at the Mayfair Children's Home would like to perform one more song for everyone." Agrippa was a little confused, but the girl soon explained. "Our director knows nothing about this. It is a surprise for him and everyone here. It was Dimitri's idea." She gestured to the boy, while Agrippa let out a confused chuckle. "Us children took the time to practise in secret in hopes that we could reveal the fruit of our efforts by the time we came up to perform, which we shall now do with the help of Messrs Malo de Vigny and Daniel of Mayfair."

Malo and Daniel!? The two men strode forward, Malo carrying his treasured violin. The girl produced sheet music from her choir robes and handed them to Daniel, who pulled out a hidden piano and set the music on the stand. Still somewhat confused, Agrippa sat beside his lover and wondered just what the children were going to do. They were quite ambitious to take on a song without his assistance, he had to admit.

Daniel had barely played a few notes and Agrippa and Weyer were surprised at what the song seemed to be, which was Pachelbel's Canon in D Major. Though it wasn't until the children began to sing that it wasn't quite the same song. The lyrics spoke true of that. The piano and violin complimented the children's voices perfectly.

 _This night we pray_  
_Our lives will show_  
 _This dream he had_  
 _Each child still knows..._

_We are waiting  
We have not forgotten..._

_On this night, on this night  
On this very Christmas night..._

As the children sang, Weyer could feel his heart fill with warmth and joy. The arrangement was absolutely beautiful. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Agrippa was moved to tears. These wonderful children had taken the time to learn something so beautiful and arranged perfectly for the season. At this point, he was beginning to think he would never be able to hear the original canon without thinking of Christmas.

The song was soon over and once more the audience applauded, nearly everyone on their feet for having loved the performance so much. _"Absolut wunderbar, Kinder,"_ Agrippa said mostly to himself, proud of the children for pulling off something so amazing.

Weyer, having heard him, turned to face him, smiling. "The children sure know how to make you proud, don't they?" Agrippa nodded as he wiped joyful tears from his eyes. Weyer held him close, his fingers threading through the German's ginger locks. _"Ich liebe dich, Heinrich."_

_"Ich liebe dich auch, Johann."_

The pair then shared a kiss while the audience continued to applaud.


End file.
